Of Cookies and Paint
by estelle.ollivere
Summary: Give a cat a cookie, and he'll never leave you alone. Seriously. Don't do it. / oneshot, updated March 2018
1. The Seeds we Sow

**I own nothing of Miraculous Ladybug. Never will. I'm too poor to buy it. So.**

 **There's just this.**

 _ **Updated 2018**_

* * *

She should have never given him those cookies.

It was a mistake that she didn't foresee, but it's rounding back to bite her. The act seemed so minuscule at the time. A simple offering of warm baked goods. But now, he keeps coming back. Every. Day. It was driving her nuts.

 _He_ was driving her nuts.

She thinks even her parents were getting a little frazzled, and they were originally fanatic to have _the_ Chat Noir as a regular customer. It's just... he was so... _Chat_.

There was a surprising upside, she supposed, to being a slight decline in his romantic advances on Ladybug. However, those advances had to go somewhere, and they just so happened to be transferred right on over to _her._ Well, Marinette her. So really, the upside was contradicted anyways. Because either way he was still flirting with her.

It started a half a year ago, when they defeated an akumatized victim not far off from her bakery. She'd run off as soon as it was over because her spots were running low, but Chat hadn't used his cataclysm and still had some time. Ladybug de-transformed behind the bakery, coming through the front doors as Marinette. As soon as she did so, her mother asked her to man the register while she ran an errand with Marinette's father.

It was probably two minutes after her parents left that Chat strolled through the doors, heading straight to where Marinette was absentmindedly filling in a Sudoku puzzle at the front counter. "Hello, Purrincess. Care to help a hungry cat out?"

Her eyes raised slowly from where she'd just drawn in a number three to meet his, but other than that she remained motionless.

His grin fell fractionally and he coughed a little.

She placed her pencil firmly on the booklet and stood up straight, gripping the the side of the counter with her forearms out. "Of course, anything for the great Chat Noir," she said enthusiastically, putting on a smile she hoped seemed star-struck. But, not star-struck enough to make his already massive ego any larger. Just enough to amuse him.

And his smirk was back full force. "Claw-some, so what do you recommend? I'm feeling up for some cookies."

She took the opportunity of turning to the display case to roll her eyes. "Um... well. My personal favorite are the raspberry jam filled shortbread, one of my good friends loves the chocolate chip, and macaroons are always popular."

"I'll take two of each!" He enthused.

She blinked, "O...kay." Reaching for a square of parchment paper, she collected the pastries and organized them in a small box. "Do you have seven fifty in that suit of yours?"

He froze, expression a strange cross between just plain blank, confused, and bewildered. "Oh."

She rolled her eyes with a smile, closing the box's lid. "Here. As a thank you for saving Paris," she told him, sliding the box across the counter for him to take.

Grinning sheepishly, he placed a hand on top of the box. "I couldn't, I'll swing by tomorrow with my wallet," he winked.

Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth to hold back a grin and she shrugged. "Suit yourself." She jumped when he burst out laughing, eyes shooting wide and mouth parting in a little 'o.'

"Sorry, it's just. _Suit_ yourself, and I don't have money in my _suit_. Get it?"

Marinette's face fell into a mild frown and her eyes grew unamusedly hooded. "Right."

* * *

He did show up the next day as promised, with the required money, and enough to buy six more cookies. And the day after that. And after that... and pretty much every day after that. To begin with he'd take the whole box home, but after just a few weeks he began to eat one or two and talk with her while doing so before heading off.

Soon it was half the box, and by now, half a year later, he would lean across the counter and engage in a conversation while the two shared the cookies. And whenever another customer came in, he was so reluctant to leave the discussion that he'd just round behind the counter and hover over her shoulder while she cashed the customer out.

Eventually it began circling around school that she was... _involved_ with the superhero, which was something she denied with her whole being whenever confronted about it. The accusations always made Adrien grin for some weird reason whenever he was around to hear her denial, which was weird and a little more than concerning. But, she didn't let the assumptions affect her daily interactions with Chat, because somehow she really didn't seem to mind it.

As it were, it was a sunny Saturday afternoon and the two were leaning across the counter facing each other. They had a box of his usual order in between them, and Marinette had gone back into the kitchen a few minutes ago to pour them each a glass of blueberry lemonade. She was chewing on her straw as they talked, while he played with his using the claws on his gloves.

"How's school?" he asked conversationally.

She shrugged, letting go of her glass and straw in favor of picking up a shortbread. "Educational," she told him, watching how his eyes trained on the way she bit into the cookie before flicking back up to meet hers.

He cleared his throat at being caught, moving his head up from where it was resting on his palm and crossing his arms in the counter. "Funny," he intoned. "Anything interesting happen lately, though? Any teachers fired?"

She took another bite and chewed, staring thoughtfully at the tip of his left cat ear. After she swallowed and ran her tongue over her teeth, she sighed and grasped her glass again. "Well, yesterday, while I was leaving school for the day- and you can't laugh," she cut in, looking him in the eye meaningfully.

He raised his right hand, "Cat's honor."

"That's reassuring," she said dubiously, rolling her eyes. Before he could complain, she surged on. "Alright, so yesterday. Alya was walking next to me," she paused, trying to figure out where to start. "She was teasing me, joking, about how much time I spend with you when I should be spending that time with my crush. And we ended up walking by him. He said hi, but I was too embarrassed to respond, so..."

She trailed off, face turning a severe shade of red, and he couldn't help himself from grinning at the sight.

"She shoved me, but I wasn't ready, so I went flying into him. And of _course_ I was carrying an open bucket of purple paint. It got all over him, his hair his clothes, and his face. It was _mortifying_ ," she groaned. "I'll never be able to look him in the eye again."

When she didn't hear a response from Chat, she glanced up at him to find him frozen and blushing.

"Chat?"

"Your-your _crush_?"

And looking him in the eye, her face scrunched up in confusion. "What about it?"

* * *

 **Fin.**


	2. The Weeds we Reap

**So just a short continuation for all of you who asked.  
Thank you for the wonderful reviews. ^^  
**

 **Enjoy. And if you don't, just remember that you asked for this. All it really is is a rushed little version of what I was thinking would happen.**

 **(by the way, Tiger Priestess hit the nail head on to what I had in mind; Chat knows about Mari being LB (he saw her when she de-transformed before going to the bakery))**

 _ **Updated March 2018**_

* * *

"Ahhh... nothing about it. That... must-" he slid a finger under the collar of his suit and readjusted it, clearing his throat, "that must have been embarrassing."

Her eyes blinked once then narrowed. "That _is_ what I said," she drew out slowly, curiously eyeing the stain of his cheeks. "What's the matter? I figured you'd be doubled over laughing at me."

"Oh, I never laugh _at you_ , Princess," he was able to clarify. "Never." The way his eyes purposely found hers with such earnest emotion had her biting her lip, and this time it was her whose face coloured rose. She coughed lightly into her fist and brushed back her bangs.

"So, what's up then?" He looked like he was about to make a run for it, so she grabbed a hold of his wrist. Apparently that was a bad idea because he jumped, eyes shooting to where her fingers wrapped around the base of his palm. She didn't let go, though, and felt his pulse triple under her fingertips.

He managed to calm down after a few breaths, face returning to its normal shade, for the most part, and pulse slowing. "Nothing," he assured, but she gave him a doubtful glare. "Honest!"

She sighed, pulling him closer by his wrist. "Chaa...," she started, but trailed off with a drop of her heart and leap of her stomach. Her eyes were trained on his hair, the smallest possible portion of it. Confused, he followed her gaze. Or tried to, anyways, because his eyes could only see upwards to a certain extent. His hand came up to paw at his bangs.

"What? What's the matter?" Her eyes dropped down to stare him in the face, mouth parted in shock and expression terrified. Her face was so red that he doubted it would ever return to normal. It got worse with every flick of her eyes over his features, seeming to be comparing him to a memorized picture.

As if suddenly remembering she was grasping his wrist, she tore her hand away from his immediate space. Hesitantly, her hand came up to point at his forehead where his stray bangs brushed above his eyes. "You-" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat to try again, "You have some paint... in uh. In your hair," she squeaked out. "It's... purple," and by the last word, her voice was impossibly small.

He flushed again and his hand reached up to search for the offending colour. Seems he didn't shampoo quite well enough. That or she had some incredible quality paint. "Oh, uh, would you look at that? I guess I do, don't I?"

Her hands covered her face and she sunk down behind the counter. He blinked, leaning over and across to peer down at her. She was sitting on her knees, crown of her head resting against the wall of the counter. "Please tell me I'm dreaming, Chat," she moaned helplessly.

A laugh bubbled from his lips because all of a sudden he realized how ridiculous this whole thing was. "'Fraid not, Princess."

She groaned, slowly leaning to the left until she fell on the floor. She rolled onto her back and drew her fingers away from her eyes to stare up at Chat, watching as he crossed his arms on the counter top and smirked down at her. "I hate you," she scowled, annoyed at how smug he was.

The smirk morphed slowly into this wicked little thing of a grin, eyes glinting in delight. " _Au contraire,_ Princess," he sang. "From what I hear, you actually feel _quite_ the opposite about me." He watched her without falter as she stood back up to face him across the counter. She cleared her throat, not really looking him in the eye.

"So uh, I guess telling that story was kind of pointless. Since you were... there," she pursed her lips, rocking back and forth from her heels to the balls of her feet.

Taking a slow breath, he grinned gently and leaned closer yet. "I thought your side of the story was rather... _enlight-kitten_."

"...get out."

* * *

 **THE actual END**

 **And if you _still_ can't go from there, just imagine that he laughs, grabs her face, and plants one on her. That's what I was figuring, anyways, but I liked this ending better. c:**


End file.
